Les Autre

Posted: November 16, 2011 in Photography
Tags: , , , ,

And, in news that does not involve my cats…

The degree to which I missed fish and chips whilst living in Japan is probably on par with how much I miss okonomiyaki now that I’m back. It’s been over a year now, and still I can’t pass a chippy without that inimitable smell of a deep-fried coronary making my mouth water. I think it speaks to something fundamentally British in my soul.

A few Saturdays ago, John and I went to The Chippy Doon the Lane (specifically McCormick Lane, just off Buchanan St) where I was able to satisfy that craving in slightly more civilised surroundings.

Lashings of ginger beer! Clearly my recent forays into the world of Ms. Blyton have had a more subliminal effect than I realised…though I don’t think she’d be entirely happy with the “alcoholic” element.

Three days later, my mum came to visit, and – given the option of lunch anywhere in Glasgow – I went straight back to the Chippy Doon the Lane. Here she is waiting patiently while I try out lenses in Jessops: a torture she later repaid by sending me this for Halloween in full knowledge that I’m desperately coulrophobic. Thank you, mother.

This time I opted for the Cajun spiced salmon fillet, which I’d been tempted to get on my previous visit before my cravings for a traditional fish supper won out. Being someone who could happily go to a restaurant and order three courses, all desserts, I feel like I have a much wider vocabulary for describing sweet foods than their savoury brethren. Words therefore fail me in extolling just how good this fish was, in all its oaky, melty, buttery delicious splendour. Suffice it to say that it’s easily one of the best things I’ve eaten since coming back.

It did not, however, come with any sides, which was why I decided to embrace my Scottish heritage and try haggis for the very first time. I don’t know quite what I was expecting (besides general awfulness), but it was perfectly fine: it tastes just like white pudding, only spicy. Actually, this proved a very eventful day, and – in the course of walking from one end of Buchanan St to the other, I:
– lost my aforementioned cultural virginity
– was stopped by a transvestite charity worker
– witnessed a gentleman indecently exposing himself in a public toilet
– replaced the lens cap I lost on a Japanese beach over a year ago
– and picked up a cat box to take Wilfred for the big chop that Friday
Never a dull moment.

That awkward moment when I Skype Lindsay and we’re both wearing the same glasses and striped-’90s-off-the-shoulder-shirt ensemble.

Intense concentration, though whether he was researching the histopathological features of pilomatrixoma or shopping for his eighteenth must-have poloneck of the month, I couldn’t say.

Another recent discovery in my attempts to broaden my Glaswegian horizons: Café Hula on Hope St. And – more significantly – their Sunday brunch; featuring French toast with bacon and maple syrup.

Of similar importance: my discovery that YO! Sushi sells ゴマアイス! We went with our fellow St Andrews graduate-cum-neighbour, Victoria, on my very first visit to the self-professed “best shopping in Glasgow”, Silverburn. Alas, our trip to the enormous Tesco next door failed to yield a Halloween costume for the cats, even in the 0-9 month children’s section.

Prior to a three-day break in St Andrews (photos to follow when I get round to them soon), John and I also went to see Margaret Cho (!) as part of the Glasgay festival. Alas, I wasn’t allowed to take any pictures, but the memories will last a lifetime.

Margaret Cho [to a 98% gay audience]: “You know what Grindr is? It’s like GPS for cock. If you turned it on right now, your phone would jam.”
(And let’s not forget the follow-up: “The closest thing lesbians have is animal rescue.”)

Indeed, the only downside to the evening was that I waited until after I’d gotten home drunk to start packing for the getaway. Rookie mistake.

Other random crap that’s happened of late? I renewed my contract with Vodafone for another year (Salesgirl, you had me at Liddell! I’m 300% likelier to respond positively when people pronounce my name correctly) and received my final cash injection courtesy of Japan. I guess now I’ll just have to make money the old-fashioned way: sleeping with a footballer and selling the story to the tabloids. It did, however, come at a very opportune moment, what with me just having bought furniture for the house in St Andrews, a new winter coat from Zara, and an AllSaints bag to replace my old brown one that died of mould. (I still need a successor for the black one murdered by a subway turnstile.)

And finally: my new hair! Back to (semi-)natural – I just couldn’t face the prospect of another chemical burn/my scalp leaking plasma for three days. I’m quite taken with it, which is just as well since I almost had a heart attack when I got the bill. Never again will I mix up the half-price cut & colour days at Aveda.


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