Ask and you will receive

What an unexpectedly fab weekend!

Once upon a time, I dreamt of a more interesting life. In recent months this has been working out nicely. My life seems to have fallen into a pattern whereby I am booked up every night of the week and totally 'free' at weekends. You'd think this might make my weekends a little dull and boring, but it's just the opposite. What usually happens is that on Friday night I get at least one call to say "well do you, do you, do you, do you wanna go ...". The offer usually involves alcohol and chat, so I tend to 'wanna go' more often than not. On Saturdays, I get to the gym before heading off with the Economist (that's the paper rather than Gordon Brown or someone of a similar ilk) for a few coffees.

This Friday I called my mum; who told me that she and my dad were coming over to see me on Saturday afternoon. I was most pleased about this as I have some trousers that need to be re-hemmed and some bed covers that could do with an iron. I also enjoy my parents' company. After that I called my Gran to wish her a happy holiday; she's off to Zambia for a month. By the time I got off the phone it was rather late, so I decided not to go out and opted instead to purge my wardrobe of clothes that were a)too big, b) far too small, c) hideous (and, thank God, unworn) and d) the wrong colour. This stems from the fact that I had a colour consultation last week during which I was told that I am light, cool and apparently sporting the wrong hair colour. Having just spent a small fortune having my hair done the week before, this isn't what I wanted to hear.

On Saturday I was waiting for my parents when I realised I had managed to read the Economist cover to cover. It followed that I had been there for quite some time. I called my mum to find out where the hell they were, only to have her tell me that they'd been diverted at the Forth Road Bridge and were on their way to Kincardine. Why didn't she call me to let me know you may ask? Alas, she had no credit in her phone. This is a regular thing. I refused to get annoyed and stemmed any rumblings of rage with a trip to Harvey Nick's where I bought a new perfume.

After an enjoyable (and rather hilarious) dinner with my parents, I bumped into Keith, then Jeff, then Sam, then Katie. They were all on their way to the Blind Poet to drink to Jeff's birthday and asked if I wanted to head along. I promptly did so and had a rather excellent time chatting, drinking and arm-wrestling.

I got to bed around 4am. Mog sent a text at 8am asking if I fancied doing something. I begged off until noon and we ended up going on a little jaunt to North Berwick (oooh, how elderly). We consumed copious amounts of food, bought some sweeties and had a walk along the beach before driving back home. An already fab weekend became fabber still when my Grandad called to 'give' me a car; a decent one with a year's road tax and MOT.

Sometimes life really does work out just as you'd imagined; sometimes it's even better.