JorgObé Skincare: Even better than peeling PVA glue off your hands

I remember my very first peel-off mask, a slime green gel which smelled distinctly of cucumbers that my mum *let* me buy. I snuck it into her basket alongside her packs of tissues and vitamins, and I rushed home to smear that green goo all over my pre-teen face. I had a weird fascination with spreading that mask on my skin and peeling it off like PVA glue. Once a weirdo, always a weirdo.

I don’t know where I first heard about the skincare company JorgObé, but somehow their Black Peel Off Mask made it onto my radar. It sounded incredible. I have a weird, gross fascination with the gunk in my pores. I still love peeling that sticky, rubbery substance off my skin like some fancy Elmer’s glue.  Suck it out of my face, mask. It’s just so satisfying. I’ve not used a peelable mask in years, and *apparently* it’s not the done thing to smear glue all over your face as a beauty treatment when you’re an adult. 

JorgObé has a very condensed range of products. Three, to be exact. There’s something I really admire about a company that is so confident in their brand that they don’t feel the need to make more than three things, but that’s just me. There’s the Peel Off Mask, the Scrub Mask, and the White Tea Balancing Cream. The packaging in simple, minimal, and monochrome. They also happen to be 100% cruelty-free and vegan, which of course is a huge plus for me. I know I don’t necessarily “market” myself as a cruelty-free blogger, because I don’t technically monetise my blog, but as a vegan I’d really be amiss if I used or promoted brands that condone animal testing. The company is Danish and only sells in Scandinavia, Germany and the UK, so there’s no worry about them trading in China!

For this blog post, I tricked my dear long-suffering flatmate Leanne into trying out the peel-off face mask and moisturiser with me. I promised her a relaxing spa-like experience. She looked nervous. You might remember Leanne from such experiments as “that time I made my flatmate eat all the vegan cheese”, and “that time I made my flatmate stand out in the cold with the flu to take outfit photos for me”. Let’s just say I’m not sure she trusts me or my “experiments” anymore.

First of all, I need to be very clear here and remind you that you really need to watch where you apply this. We didn’t read the instructions and spread a layer on our cheeks. DO NOT DO THIS. You will remove every baby hair that ever was or will ever be on your face. Don’t think your face is covered in tiny invisible downy hairs? Oh boy would you be wrong. There was screaming. Cursing. Some threats of bodily harm. Leanne does not enjoy involuntary facial epilation.

We applied a reasonably even layer of the black goo onto Leanne’s face first. She was determined to read the instructions. I was determined I knew how to put on a face mask. Oh how wrong I was. We had her wee cheeks smeared with the stuff before I heard an angry yelp and an accusing finger pointing at the bit on the back of the tube that said not to apply to areas with hair. Oops. Sorry Leanne.

Then we waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

By the time the 25-30minutes was up, we’d watched half an episode of SVU and Leanne was running to the bathroom ready to start peeling. Once we got over the initial pain of ripping the mask from our delicate wee cheeks, it was actually quite good fun. If you’re smart and only applied the stuff to your T-zone, I can vouch for those areas being pretty painless. I took SO MANY photos of us mid-peel. You can literally see the gunk that came out of our pores and the nasty little tiny blackheads. Yes it was disgusting, but also weirdly riveting. I mean, nothing shows a product works like an actual visual representation of the grot that it’s just removed from your face, right? My pores were noticeably smaller. Except the big one on my nose, but I’m convinced that’s not actually a pore but a portal into another dimension.

My skin felt so smooth after this, and the moisturiser had the loveliest light texture. I’d say the finish is quite velvety. As velvety as my puppy’s ears? Maybe not quite, but close. There are all sorts of ingredients in there intended to control and regulate sebum production, and it feels fucking fantastic on.  Leanne was very impressed with the moisturiser. In fact, my tube of this has disappeared, so I have my suspicions as to how much exactly she loved this product. 

Stay tuned for more experiments on Leanne. Thankfully, she confirmed the results were worth the fear this time, or I’d have to be on the lookout for a new test subject (and flatmate).



Fuck this shit: Trump, Racism, Xenophobia and Politics

Fuck this shit.

How many of us sat in a high school History class, silently judging the people of Nazi Germany? Why didn’t they do something? Why did no one help? We considered them complicit. We would have acted differently; we would have been louder, or stronger, or braver. We would have done something…right?

Maybe it’s complacency. In the half century or so since the end of WWII, with the memory of the atrocities of Hitler and co still somewhat fresh in our minds, Nazi sympathisers and neo-Nazis laid low. There were people still alive who remembered the war. Holocaust survivors with crude tattoos still etched on their skin, children and grandchildren asking what the numbers meant.  People were still hurting. People still remembered. 

When Trump signed that executive order effectively banning anyone coming from Syria, Libya, Iraq, Iran, Yemen, Somalia, and Sudan from entering the US for 90 days, it gave credence to bigots and racists. The same people who claim they’re “not racist, but”. The ones who will now use the excuse that their hatred is OK, because the President of the United States endorses it.


Nationalism is the most ridiculous concept, especially from a country that was *allegedly* founded on freedom from religious persecution whilst invading, exploiting and massacring the native peoples they found there. Why is the country in which you were expelled from your mother’s vagina so significant? What exactly makes people able to hate those who just happened to come flying out of a fanny on the other side of the world? It’s baffling. It makes me angry, and sad, and bloody terrified. How can seemingly sentient people dehumanise anyone to this degree?

I am quite sick and fucking tired of hearing that same old xenophobic rhetoric, disguised as domestic nationalistic altruism. How many times have you heard someone utter the words “we need to help our own first”? Ironically but unsurprisingly, these are the same people who wouldn’t exactly go out of their way to help those in need here either. They’re not volunteering at homeless shelters or helping out at soup kitchens. They aren’t campaigning against unfair assessments of health and ability from the DWP. You won’t see them protesting for equal rights and equal pay for women, and you won’t bump into them at Pride. It’s an empty excuse, because they just do not give a shit. Do they care about the shambles our education system is in or how overworked our NHS doctors and nurses are? DO THEY FUCK. They don’t care about “their own” at all, except as a means to “other” those pesky immigrants. 

Unlike many who were anti-Trump from the beginning, I was never pro-Hilary. I was well aware that the US got a shitty deal there. I’ve read posts from Trump supporters claiming all sorts of BS, from the legitimacy of “alternative facts” to claiming there is no actual Muslim ban, because banning entry to the United States to those from predominantly Muslim countries on the basis of nationality isn’t apparently evidence enough to prove there is a Muslim ban. They pluck their information from such laughable sources of “news” as the Daily Mail, the Mirror, and of course Fox News. Bombarded by actual proof of Trump’s unstable, fraudulent and misogynistic behaviour, they resort to name calling and insults flung at anyone who doesn’t just want to accept the status quo. I’ll stick to my credible sources of news, thankyouvermuch. Fun tip – if your favourite newspaper is just a glorified platform to spew racist, xenophobic, sexist, and badly written bile? It’s probably not a great source of actual NEWS. Maybe they just need to spend less time policing womens bodies and more time doing some critical thinking. It’s all about good time management.

The reaction from activists in the US has been overwhelming. The response across the world has been humbling. Maybe, just maybe, people aren’t going to take this lying down. I went to a protest against the Muslim ban last night, and the fact there was so much support just in my city was just incredible; it was the first time I’d personally felt hopeful in days. These were people who gave a shit. The ones who stood out in the freezing cold, holding signs and placards and showing support. 

These people were tangible proof that this time, we aren’t just going to let these fascist cunts walk all over us.



Veganuary: Edinburgh

Veganuary. It’s a funny word isn’t it? Looks much better written down than it sounds, that time of year vegans can get excited about the influx of newbies ready to give up meat and milk for the month of January. Will they stick at it? Will they go back to their omni ways? Will they whinge about cheese?
Veganuary deals in Edinburgh tend to be offers from chain restaurants, which are…ok. Not spectacular. I wanted to try something new. Something more exciting than a vegan burger or a pizza. This January I had big plans to show my omni friends how delicious vegan food can be, and so this had to be impressive. These are die-hard chicken eaters I’m dealing with, you see. These friends have *shudder* pepperoni on their pizzas. They order *ugh* sweet and sour chicken from the Chinese takeaway. They *I can’t believe I’m saying this* have meatballs with their pasta. No, an average vegan meal just would not do here. I was planning to bring out the big guns.

At the beginning of the month I’d seen photos a friend had posted on Facebook of January’s vegan menu at No. 8 Lister Square, and then basically pestered her until she agreed to go for lunch with me. I’ve been three more times since then. Let that sink in. I’ve eaten there two days in a row, it’s that good.

Now this new vegan menu isn’t a permanent fixture…yet. They’ve added a couple of vegan options onto their regular menu, but the separate Veganuary options are just for the month of January. If you want to try them out, this is the last weekend to do it! If you love it as much as I do, let them know, as there’s still hope they’ll keep them on after the month is through.

My favourite dish? Hands down the melanzane; layers of baked aubergine, rich tomato ragu and a vegan béchamel topped with the most delicious crunchy topping. This is the most realistic cheese sauce I have ever tasted. It’s better than dairy. Even my vegan-cheese-hating flatmate loved it, which is really saying something. She still hasn’t forgiven me for that time I made her taste test a faux cheddar that whiffed of putrid feet.

The double chocolate tofu ice cream with candied pineapple was another one that won me over, and I don’t usually like ice cream desserts. The caramelised pineapple intrigued me, as chocolate and pineapple isn’t a combination I’d thought would work OH MY GOD, IT REALLY DOES. I will now be dipping my pineapple in chocolate for the rest of my days.

Last week I finally managed to go to Casa Angelina for their afternoon tea. I’ve been here before, and these guys make a regular appearance at the Leith Market Vegan Quarter with their awesome salads and cakes. They ran a 2-for-1 offer throughout January on all full afternoon teas, including the vegan ones, so of course Emily and I (and our lovely assistant Matt) had to take advantage of this. Is there anything more delicious or instagrammable than a cream tea? I mean, the wee vintage plates alone warranted several photos, and that cake tier, holy shit! There was so much food, it was beautifully presented, and it tasted so good.

There were mini bagels with roasted aubergine and fresh hummus, sesame seed buns with roasted peppers and homemade pesto, itsy bitsy bagels with the most incredible mushroom pate I’ve ever tasted, and red cabbage and wasabi summer rolls wrapped in delicate rice paper. Then jam sandwich coconut lamingtons, fudgy chocolate chip blondies, and chocolate peanut butter cupcakes. Oh, and just in case you thought that was it? That you were absolutely stuffed and would require some form of wheelbarrow situation to get you out the door? Then you spy the scones, with HOMEMADE rhubarb and plum jams.

Everything was incredible, though as always, my favourites were the savoury treats. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good vegan cupcake, but vegan savouries are rarer than a flying unicorn with glitter-encrusted hooves. Good ones, anyways. Show of hands who else is a bit bored with the offerings of dry falafel, flaccid raw peppers, and supermarket hummus sandwiched between limp slices of bread that seem to be the only vegan sandwich available. Or cucumber sandwiches. I am so over cucumber sandwiches.

I had a wee chat with the owner as we were leaving, and he mentioned that though he isn’t a vegan himself, he had always thought it was a shame that his vegan friends were often shortchanged when going out for a meal, so he wanted to provide something tasty, beautiful, and plant-based that everyone could enjoy. Casa Angelina managed to provide an entire vegan feast, using just whole foods. Everything we ate was literally plant-based. No dairy-free cheeses, no faux meats. This was a meal made up entirely of vegetables, fruits, grains and pulses.

Casa Angelina have now extended the afternoon tea offer for the month of February as well, so I’ll definitely go again at least once to stuff my face. 

If you’re vegan, doing Veganuary, or even if you just love great food – both these places are definitely worth checking out! 


Art your Heart Out: Themed Life Drawing at Summerhall

“Try new things”, they said.

“It’ll be fun”, the promised.

“The weather’s too shitty to spend outside anyways”.

This is how an artist (Kara), an aspiring architect (Leanne), a Food & Drink writer (Emily) and an interior designer (moi) wandered into Summerhall with pencils and sketchbooks and some very rusty illustration skills. This is how, somehow, we ended up at a life drawing class. Not just any life drawing class either, but one with a Mediaeval Queen as our model.

Some people just have that look about them, don’t they? The smooth oval faces of Vermeer’s middle-class, the evocative pre-Raphaelite ginger hair, the pale skin and childlike chins of Boucher’s Rococo odalisques or the very distinctive gaze of Manet’s Olympia. It’s like they just walked straight out of a painting.

Today was the first session of the year, but these will be on every Wednesday at Summerhall’s Anatomy Lecture Theatre. As someone who’s mostly done garment and textile-themed life drawing in the past, so this would be an entirely new experience for me. It’s been so long since I’ve done an actual sketch of a human form without the express purpose of arranging clothing on top of it that let’s be honest, my drawings are probably going to suck. Thank fuck it was lightly themed.

Did I enjoy it? I actually really did, though I’ll admit I didn’t take it as seriously as some. I mean I actually started sketching a girl sitting a few rows in front of me because I loved her haircut. I practiced my croquis. I drew a woman in a ball dress. A top hat. A cup. 

It was so much fun to get back into doing something artistic again. Even though I stopped sketching what I saw 20 minutes in and started drawing from my imagination, the idea of sitting down for a couple of hours once a week, specifically set aside to draw…it was just what I’ve been needing. 




#OOTD: Canuckerama, a very very Canadian outfit

Another year, another outfit post. Today’s theme is CANADA.

I just got back from a fabulous fortnight in the motherland, and I miss it already. I sometimes wonder if I’d stayed, would I be as obnoxiously Canadian as I am now? A maple syrup chugging, beaver hugging, hockey watching fan of moose and geese? Would my favourite tartan be lumberjack? Would my favourite leaf be the maple? Would I still pine for poutine? Who even am I?! 

I was accompanying the lovely Flo to get her new fox tattoo, and figured this was a good chance to hoodwink her into taking some outfit photos. Who doesn’t want to stand outside in the freezing cold snapping pics of a cackling Canadian wearing a sweary sweatshirt and a Minnie Mouse bow? Who doesn’t love seeing me flash my maple leaf underpinnings (worn over my tights, superhero-style)? She is a good friend. A patient friend. Remind me to send her some mini muffins.

This is the first chance I’d had to wear my new Wully Outerwear coat, a very generous Christmas present from a very lovely human being. Y’all know I love ethical fashion, and being vegan that also means staying away from clothing made from animal products. Wully Outerwear is a relatively new company, founded in 2015 and with a very strong basis in animal welfare. They wanted to raise awareness about the conditions of animal trapping for *those* fur-trimmed, down-filled winter coats that seem to be everywhere. Do we need the insulation of down to stay warm when the weather dips? Of course we don’t! Is a coyote fur trim going to keep that brisk wind off your face? Of course it fucking won’t. Don’t be ridiculous. We have things like technology, man-made fibres, and technical textiles now. These “high-end” feather and fur garments are nothing but an inflated status symbol.

The topic of “vegan” clothing is something I rant – I mean talk – about often. One thing I absolutely hate is that what’s usually on offer on the high street is accidentally vegan, because it’s cheap as fuck. Not cheap as in inexpensive, but cheap as in crap. So many high street retailers sell poorly made, poorly designed clothing and accessories in faux leather; that rubbish wouldn’t even last a season, is probably made in a fucking sweatshop, and basically falls under the umbrella “not good enough to be real leather”. Well I call bullshit. Why can’t vegans have high-quality, stylish, well-made and thoughtfully designed fashion that we’d actually want to wear? Why can’t we have nice things?

We need to normalise veganism. Stop being classified as hippies who don’t mind wearing hemp sacks and cheap plastic shitty shoes. We need to demand better quality clothing, shoes, bags, and accessories, because you know what? Caring about animal welfare and style shouldn’t be mutually exclusive.

Have y’all noticed that I can’t really let an outfit post slip by without sliding a wee message about ethics or equality in there somewhere?

Wully Outerwear donates $10 of the sale of every coat to the Association for the Protection of Fur-bearing Animals, AND they offer a trade-up programme. Bring them a Canada Goose jacket, one of those monstrosities filled with down and trimmed with coyote fur, and they give you basically half off a new Wully coat. They are then distributed to charities to help the homeless. How fricking amazing is that? A company with an actual conscience, and being Canadian designed and made, that’s just a bonus. It’s so important for companies to not only be creative disruptors to disposable fashion, but to also remain innovative in doing so. Wully does exactly this.

As today’s #OOTD theme is Canada, I decided to pair that fabulous Wully parka (which is lined with my very favourite of all the plaids) with a pair of faux suede over-the-knee boots I bought in Toronto’s new vegan concept store The Imperative . The boots are from a Portuguese vegan shoe company called Nae, and they are so comfy.  Also I *might* have had a wee giggle at the fact they’re “NAE boots”, because they are, quite clearly, boots ;-). The bag is from a very fabulous vegan company called Mechaly, which I also picked up at The Imperative. The shop has an excellent selection of all-vegan and cruelty-free products, so when I finally have time to sit down and write my Vegan Toronto blog post, trust me it features heavily. If you’re lucky enough to be in Toronto, it’s over at 1332 Queen Street West in Parkdale. Just opposite Doomie’s. Revel in that incredible shoe department. Grab yourself a plant-based Philly cheese “steak” and boozy oreo milkshake whilst you’re in the area. 

Coat: Wully

Sweatshirt: Peace Collective 

Skirt: Black Milk, purchased secondhand from a  friend

Hairband: similar from Alternate Normality 

Handbag: Mechaly

Pants: Candi Factory (worn superhero style over tights)

Boots: Nae


Things we should leave in 2016: Get in the Sea

I don’t do resolutions. As we barrel full pelt into 2017 I’m fighting off a cold, snuggled up to my beloved dog and drinking ginger and lemon tea. I spent the first few days of the year catching up with good friends and stuffing my face. Fuck productivity. Today is my first full day back and I am somewhat unimpressed that I’ve being made to work on my puppy’s birthday. How rude. 

I didn’t want to make a list of goals I’d like to accomplish this year, or vices I think I should give up. Things change in my life at such a rapid rate that they’d probably be redundant by March, so instead I thought I’d share a few thoughts on what I reckon we should leave in 2016.

Thinly veiled weight loss resolutions

How many people who claim to be body positive have used the start of a new year to slip a little “I want to lose a few pounds so I can be a healthier new me” into conversation? People who would protest til they’re blue in the face the other 11 months of the year that they would never do this. It doesn’t matter how you word it. It’s still the same old desire to shed “excess” poundage under the guise of wanting to be able to walk a few extra yards without getting “tired out”. Seriously, if a person actually wants to lose weight, for themself, then that’s great. But using January’s notion of resolutions as an excuse? Really?! 

First of all, no one needs to lose weight to be happier. That is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard. Be happy with yourself if you don’t lose weight, if you do lose weight, hell even if you grow an iridescent horn atop your head that shines in the moonlight.  Happiness isn’t  quantified in pounds.

Cruelty to Animals

How many of us have had a wee sob to videos of puppies and kittens abandoned once their new pet smell had worn off? Seriously, when will people stop giving LIVING BEINGS as presents? If someone doesn’t know how to care for an animal, they need to read up on it. Google is your friend. Ask Twitter. Ask a fucking vet. It’s not ok to just assume that hyperactive new puppy will grow out of its biting phase, because it’s a dog, not a psychic.

Remember these fuzzbutts are family. Anyone who can’t commit to treating them with the love and respect they deserve should just stick to looking at cute kitten memes on the internet. Real cats, dogs, hamsters, guinea pigs, gerbils, bunnies and ferrets need fed, exercised, their poop scooped, and plenty of cuddles. Real pets aren’t toys. 

Passive agressive anti-Vegan jokes

Parroting that same tired old bacon joke? Ha ha, very good. So original. If the go-to response when they find out someone chooses not to eat animal products for moral, ethical, or health reasons is to make some recycled joke trying to put them down? Get. A. Life.

I don’t force my veganism down anyone’s throat, so why do some meat eaters think it’s appropriate to shove their views in my face? Leave me and my seitan burger alone. Oh and for the record, even before I stopped eating meat, I thought bacon was foul. If someone is so indoctrinated into the Borg collective conscience that they feel they’ve got to love to eat what they’ve been told to, then that’s their  problem. Oh and weirdly, it’s often the same folk waxing lyrical about the delights of the almighty bacon who look disgusted at the prospect of black pudding. How’s that for inconsistent?

Gendering “Objects”

I wrote about this awhile ago, but it still irritates the hell out of me. Rebranding and gendering of things like nail polish, hair buns, and eyeliner is just unnecessary. It feeds into this ridiculous patriarchal notion that women and men dare not stray too far from their narrow gender roles, and therefore the only way it would be acceptable for a man to then wear something traditionally “feminine” is to give it a new name. Male polishMan-bun. Guyliner. Get a grip.

It’s not helpful, it’s not clever, and it only teaches children unhealthy behaviours about gender “norms” that are basically a load of BS anyways.

Rape Culture

I genuinely can’t fathom why as reasonably sentient adults, people still feed into this toxic victim blaming bollocks. It’s 2017. Why is it such a difficult concept to grasp that it ISN’T what a woman wears, says, drinks, or who she chooses to sleep with? That there is no such thing as “consensual sex”, because by that very phrase, it is implied there are OTHER types of sex. What a victim does up to, during and following their assault is 100% not the cause of rape, RAPISTS are the cause of rape.

Whilst we’re here, could Lad Culture get into the fucking sea as well? Encouraging guys to go out, get shitfaced, and grope random women? How rubbish must your patter be to think this is a fun night out? Ugh. Get a hobby.

Non-intersectional White Feminism

Let’s be clear here, I’m not hating on white women who happen to be feminists. It’s the ones who are held as some sort of standard to be measured against, who have a huge platform, and yet who still don’t think before they speak that I’m talking about.

There are young women out there who are being fed the cleverly packaged lie that celebrities like Lena Dunham and Taylor Swift are painted as feminist idols. They’re loud, they’re famous, and they try to trick the viewer into believing they speak for equality. But only for cis white women.

In 2017, if your feminism isn’t intersectional, then it’s just not good enough. If your feminism isn’t inclusive for WoC, LGBTQA+, trans women, sex workers, disabled women, non-binary folk…your feminism is bullshit.

Cultural Appropriation as Fancy Dress costume

Can we please leave culturally offensive Halloween costumes like “Sexy Pocahontas” and “Sexy Geisha” behind this year? I’d suggest making a big ol bonfire but the pollution from all that polyester would probably choke us all.

There are SO MANY costumes and costume variations that can be “sexed-up” without taking a culture’s traditional dress and bastardising it. The assholes who think dressing up as a in a feathered headdress and a fringed skirt or a cheongsam with chopsticks stuck in their hair is just a bit of fun completely disregard the fact that these items of clothing are considered a part of the tradition for certain cultures. They are considered an expression of that culture and identity, and it is really rather offensive to turn that into a fancy dress costume.

Oh and let’s all take a moment to reflect on the statistic that 1 in 3 indigenous women in the US will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime, which is twice the national average. Having a culture diminished to a costume that is portrayed as “sexy” is hugely problematic, damaging, and actually dangerous.

What do you think should be left in the old year? What should we keep?


Airport observations: one delayed flight from CDG to Edinburgh 

I said I wasn’t going to write an end-of-year post, but if I’m honest, this is more to keep me from losing my shit in the airport than anything else. Yes, my flight is delayed. I reek of broken dreams & recycled air. My perfume? Eau de Despair. 

  • Someone rubbed up against me. I’m pretty sure they were carrying Camembert. A particularly ripe one. Either that or they need to get some latent digestive disorder checked out
  • Why are people taking off their shoes in the boarding queue? This is weird 
  • Oh look. That dude is scratching his balls
  • I wonder what it’s like to board a plane with just a handbag? I have a small suitcase, a large laptop bag, another bag with my actual laptops in it, and a sack of shit I bought at duty free because I was bored. Not gonna even pretend most of it isn’t alcohol 
  • We all decided en masse to sit on the floor still in queues. Ten feet away from actual seats. Wonder if we are protesting? What are we protesting? Oh fuck I can still smell the cheese
  • Some guy is lying on the floor face down on his bag. We’re delayed, but come on. It’s only been twenty minutes!
  • I have been wearing this bra for so long I think it’s become part of my boob
  • If my underwire & my tit fuse together, would that make me a slightly crappy Wolverine? 
  • The couple sitting across from me sound like they are on a first date. I’m not joking 
  • A very loud woman is telling us we should let our loved ones know we will be delayed. Uh, no I’ll just blog about it
  • Why is she shouting directions? I’m pretty sure she doesn’t work for the airline 
  • I would literally pay anything rn for a direct flight 
  • I’m lying down now
  • Laptop bags make terrible pillows
  • They’re making an announcement! They’re making an announcement!
  • That announcement was not helpful at all 
  • So we’re delayed because they misplaced the bus that is to take us from the terminal to the plane. I feel there are a number of ways this could be resolved 
  • People are panicking. In French. The French enjoy a good panic 
  • I can literally hear Chinese whispers in about 3 languages & people are not handling this well 
  • Oh goody. Some guy in a man bun is mansplaining runways queues. He does not work for the airline 
  • Why are people standing up? Is there progress? What’s going on?!
  • Oh I see. Snacks 
  • Why is the man bun a thing? Why is it called a MAN bun? Why not just call it a crap hairstyle and not gender it maybe? 
  • Why are people standing up, then sitting down, then standing up? Are we playing a drinking game?
  • Loud woman from earlier is hinting she should be allowed to board early as she was so “helpful”. Calm doon hen, we’re 2 hours late. Don’t think the extra 8 minutes is going to make a difference 
  • They have a bus! 
  • Omg it’s not a real bus, it’s a bunch of mini buses. I’m HOWLING

OK folks. I’m on the plane. It’s been a wild ride, and there was that rocky patch in the beginning with the dude and his Camembert. But I made it. We made it. 

Happy new year everyone!