We've just arrived back here again after going out for a drive. The old car had been stuttering
a bit in 2nd before we left for our holiday two weeks ago, and I wanted to gas it up and just give
it a gentle run when I got back. The gentle run turned into almost an hour's drive (with Real Radio on;
100.3 FM if you're in the greater Glasgow area). Probably a silly thing to do; driving around in a slightly-dodgy
car, at night, after a long trip. But hey.
It's strange when you travel; you get really tired phases, then a surge of energy from nowhere. Eventually,
at the end of the day, you feel more completely, thoroughly drained than you ever do in regular daily life. It's
a truly <em>comprehensive</em> type of exhaustion! My brain is frazzled, so excuse this post's meandering.
It's about 4 minutes to midnight now. This morning I "got up" at about 2am (I say "got up" since I didn't sleep
a wink; I've really been up since about noon yesterday), and we eventually headed off to Las Palmas airport in a taxi at
about 4:15am (there's no time-difference between Gran Canaria and the UK, by the way - handy). I had breakfast at the airport,
and again on the plane. I had lunch and dinner here. When I "got up" this morning we had a breakfast of croissants and some
absurdly sugary strawberry jam; I'm now about to have some cornflakes. I've been down to the supermarket twice this evening,
and it's both amusing and horrifying how quickly you fall back into the usual routine. I mean, this morning we were sitting in
a plane, taking off from Gran Canaria. A little while ago, I was sitting in my semi-trusty car, driving the familiar old back-roads
over towards Condorrat. It's bizarre. Time has been compressed; the day pumped full of additional hours.
We of course told everyone today about our engagement (not quite everybody just yet, but most of our families). I felt suddenly very
nervous before telling my mother, for some reason. My brother was very pleased, which was great. I'll drive over to my father's house
tomorrow night to tell him. I'm slightly nervous about that too, but also really looking forward to it. Everyone is of course delighted;
I think there'll be a notice in the local paper sometime soon. I've apparently to decide on the wording - I've no idea what kind of thing
you're meant to say. I'm fairly sure it's just a brief "announcement of the engagement of Mr. ...." etc blah blah. I'll have to read that
section in tomorrow's paper to see the kind of thing they expect.
That's the thing about big events; they're hijacked by other people. Engagement (for example) is only really "yours" up until the time
that you start telling people. Then you've sucked into everyone's own peculiar little rituals of celebration, forced to play an appropriate
part in the name of politeness. I've just re-read this paragraph, and it sounds awful, like I'm complaining - I'm not really. Just observing
that the customs and rituals of celebration actually perversely impose most on those who are the <em>object</em> of the celebration. It's interesting,
when you think about it. Or maybe just when your brain is running on fumes. ;)
I also had a moment of nerves right before I actually proposed to Fiona, which I suppose is only natural. Up until the actual moment
when I got down on one knee, I was feeling quite The Man, since I'd genuinely not felt a single flutter of anxiety. The enormity of
the moment did transiently intimidate me, but I recovered. ;) Fiona said 'yes' straight away, and she cried. I didn't, but only through
sheer willpower and jaw-control. I didn't expect to feel like crying either; it's funny how things sneak up on you. We both cried a bit later,
I'm not ashamed to admit. Just happy-crying; you know how it is. Like a pressure-valve being released, somehow. I think that's the first time
that I've understood that crying can actually be <strong>useful</strong>. A necessary, and even strangely enjoyable thing, not just a response.
Fiona is asleep already. She's incredibly beautiful. Damn I love her. :)
Going to see about a new car sometime this week. I've wanted a Peugeot 206 for a while now, and my father (he's in the motor trade) has come
across a beauty. 2001 Y-plate LX, 5-door, remote central locking, PAS, CD player, air-con, silver with body-coloured side-skirts, alloy wheels,
and so on. It's a 1.1, but I don't really need more. 23k on the clock, with one (female) owner. I can get it for £6,200 including a full check.
Fully comp it comes in at almost £200 pa less than my current insurance. Tempting!
Right, enough of this - time for a snack and then bed. I must remove my contact lenses before my eyes shrivel up and fall out. It's now officially
'tomorrow', so this is the third consective calendar day I've been awake in. Accordingly, I'm off to curl up with my <strike>girlfriend</strike>
<strong>fiancée</strong> and get some much-needed rest.
Goodnight folks. :)