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I’ve been tangoed

It’s all feeling a bit surreal.  It’s 08:53 and I’m relaxing on my sisters bed in my pajamas.  I’ve had a full nights sleep (well apart from her snoring) and for the next six hours I have nothing to do but indulge my own whims.  How odd.

For the first time in two and a half years I am actually alone.  Helen and Sally are safely on Colonsay with Allan and my parents and I am in Fort William waiting for my sister Jen to finish work so we can embark on one of our oldest friends’ hen weekends.

I can’t say much about the hen – I don’t actually think Mairi reads my blog but even so having managed to keep schtum as to the location and activities we will be enjoying I would be gutted if she decided that today was the day she was going to catch up on all she’s missed.  Don’t worry though – I have another day to myself on Monday so I promise full disclosure and photographs then.

I left Colonsay at lunch time yesterday.  I won’t pretend that the morning was not a little fraught.  Helen was very relaxed about me leaving although she did remind me several times that I had promised to buy some new socks for dolly (she has lost one) and some more big girl pants for her.  I am quite worried about these promises now as my trip only allows for shopping in Oban and Fort William – neither of these towns are large and I’m concerned that socks for dolly may be in short supply.  If the worst comes to the worst I will have to buy some baby socks and alter them on my way home.  Helen actually spent most of the morning down at the weaves – talking to them.  She took them an egg the day before so I think they were pleased to see her.

I had a very pleasant time on the boat.  I ate what I wanted for lunch and didn’t share it with anybody.  I bought two gossip magazines and read them both although I was sad to discover that six months on Colonsay has had a serious impact on my celebrity recognition skills and I didn’t know who half of the people in the magazine were.  I must tell Allan we need to start watching TOWIE when I get home.  I know we live on a remote island but still there are standards to maintain.

My first port of call in Oban was then bank and it was only after I had attempted to engage the teller in conversation that I realised that the social isolation of the rock has impacted on more than my celebrity recognition.  I seem to have turned into one of these old ladies you meet at bus stops who engage anyone in conversation and won’t stop talking at them until they actually get onto a bus and drive away (and woe betide if they are on the same bus as you, I once had to admire an old ladies new gloves all the way from Inverness to Wick).  Mairi may not know what we are doing on the hen weekend but fear not the whole of Oban now knows.  I also had a very interesting conversation with a lady in the tanning salon about her shingles.

Now the eagle-eyed amongst you will have picked up on the words tanning salon.  Yes!  I decided to go for what my friend Kate calls ‘the diet in a bottle’.  I was concerned that Oban may not have the facilities to give me a healthy glow but I need not have feared – there were numerous salons willing to transform my pastey whiteness.  I picked one called Saint Saviour where a lovely lady called Karen talked to me at great length but minimal speed about how realistic the tan would look.  I then took off all of my clothes (yes all of them!!) and assumed a number of bizarre poses whilst she airbrushed me.  Twenty minutes later I was a delightful shade of orange.

It’s funny, I’m usually a very self conscious person.  When I was about 15 my Dad insisted on doing a ridiculous walk all through a motorway service station and I refused to walk near him in case I was associated with him.  Normally I won’t go out if my hair looks greasy but I strolled through the streets of Oban happy as larry, bright orange and proud.

Sadly when I arrived in Fort William two hours later it transpired that Jen does not share my new Zen attitude to life.  She greeted me with shrieks of horror, walked ten paces in front of me and made me wait in the car whilst she went into the supermarket.  We spent the evening engaged in Hen preparations and each time either of us caught a glimpse of my mahogany hued limbs we would be crippled by laughter.  I was also not really allowed to help with many of the hen preparation tasks as my hands kept leaving orange splodges all over everything.

Anyway, I showered last night and this morning  I just have a healthy glow.  O.K. I’m actually still orange but compared to last night I’m practically white again.  It’s true though – I do look much thinner.  I would like to share a photo of my orangeness but sadly it would give away crucial hen details so instead I leave you with a picture of Jens suitcase – she actually thinks it is going to shut – poor deluded fool!



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One thought on “I’ve been tangoed

  1. siobhanjc on said:

    I’m now really looking forward to the post on Monday. I am naturally intensely pasty so live in fear of fake tan – this has not changed my mind!

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