Avoiding Lesbania

"Theo" (see previous post... although she sort-of objects to the name: reminded her of The Cosby Show. *sigh* Fair point, well made, so it may very well change... To be fair, it doesn't entirely suit her... but I can hardly use any of the names I actually call her, can I? *blush*) and I had planned to go to the Lothian Gay and Lesbian Switchboard "Halloween Ball," but due to a range of things (including lack of arsedness) we decided not to go. Instead, we gave-in to a spontaneous streak and took off for the weekend to York -originally to attend the York Lesbian Arts Festival, but (due to another lack of arsedness) we decided not to bother spending the money on rubbing shoulders with the "cliterati" and around 3000 others - preferring to do our own thing and explore the city together.

The drive down was long... we arrived at the B&B rather late and just wanted to get to our room and crash. Of course, our intentions were also subject to spontaneous change, particularly when Theo saw the above: I was summoned to the bathroom where I too fell into knackeredly hysterical fits of the giggles. My English teacher-ness appreciated the utter bollocks and pomposity of the non-existent word "sanified", the rest of me just found the idea of sticking a sash over a toilet bowl to proclaim its cleanliness delightfully surreal...

We had a great time. We wandered, bimbled and idled our way through the city, ambled through The Shambles and minced around the Minster (see below), that sort of thing... Our only encounter with Lesbania (apart from receiving the occasional "nod") was when we wandered to the Marketplace to be met with a sea of dykes gathered around a group of wailing choir-type singers. For once we were in the majority in a public place. It was a pleasant change, but as Theo and I discussed at the time, we did wonder if the locals thought the same thing as some of "us" Edinbuggers do at Festival time: "Oh shit, it's going to be mobbed" and therefore avoid the city. (-Except we pretty much have all of August - and hordes of leafleters, performers, tourists and the like to plough through across the entire city - and the Yorkies have one weekend in October to think "Oh bugger, Mavis - no going to Betty's Tea Room today, the city is riddled with drinkers from the furry cup...")


Anyhow... we also encountered the world's dullest tour guide, drank in Yorke's oldeste Pubbe, considered doing the Tour Bus thing, but decided to drink cocktails instead and generally chilled out and got to know each other much better. As I said, we had a great weekend.

Now back to reality. I have an interview on Monday - only a part time job, but it's a start. *sigh* Where did I put that iron?...