Call me MA MA

After months and months and months of waiting I have finally been awarded my postgraduate masters degree from Cardiff. It has been so long since my course finished that even I am having trouble remembering exactly what I studied! So now I am Beverley Hope MA(hons)German MA(European Studies)...or something like that. People say that we're now in a world where one degree isn't enough to go far in life, but now I'm wondering if even two is enough?!

To celebrate the envelope finally coming through the door, mum and I went out for dinner (while dad played golf). We went to A Room in the West End. It was a really nice treat and the food was lovely. In fact mum even branched out and tried ostrich. Further to that treat, Fiona and I went for a shop in the Gyle one night after work and I treated myself to a dress from Monsoon. In my somewhat warped logic I decided I could justify it by keeping it long enough to wear at Danielle's wedding...it's next Spring. Otherwise, I could wear it on the odd occasion between now and then without being seen by Danielle, Ben or anyone else I think will be at the wedding!

I am realising that, for those of you regular blog readers, you'll have noticed I haven't giving you a plot analysis of Neighbours for a while. Well, all I have to say is brace yourself - two Ramsay Street stalwarts are leaving this week and it's going to be emotional. I love spring TV scheduling, it's great...with the exception of Big Brother, controversial I know. Tuesdays have been awesome with The F Word on (although it was even better when it was preceded by How To Look Good Naked). Wednesdays have been compelling while The Apprentice has been on and there have been tornadoes sweeping through Wisteria Lane. What's more, Shipwrecked has been on at the weekend - perfect tele to recover from hangovers with!

Now it's sport sport sport all the way. Although the rugby season is over and my walks to Murrayfield (from my flat two minutes away) have been put on hold until the friendly Edinburgh match against Wasps in August, the test matches have been taking up most weekends. When not rugby, there's the Euro 2008 football, Queens/Wimbledon, Formula One and then eventually there's the Olympics. Interestingly enough I ended up watching the Triathlon World championship from Vancouver today and was surprised to see British woman Helen Tucker win the event! The other week I ran the Race for Life for Cancer Research UK. The course was only 5km and, while it didn't kill me, I did feel quite knackered by the end of it. How triathletes manage lots of swimming, a 40km bike ride and then lots of running is beyond me! Nevertheless, my 5km effort raised £180 for charity. I think I've now been bitten by the distance bug (ok, to some of you 5km may not be 'distance', but speaking as a 200m sprinter...!) My next challenge will be the Loch Ness 10km in October.



I don't know about you, but lately I've been getting evermore guilty about watching those 'pull-on-the-heart-strings' adverts that have been asking people to give blood. In short, the advert worked. To try and overcome my fear of going to the walk-in centre I thought I'd recruit some friends to come with me one evening after work and I created a Facebook event. I'm guessing most of the people I invited are like me and mentally thought of every possible excuse not to go. I have been being that person for so long but now I feel I should act my age, endure the twenty minutes it takes to give blood, and save a few lives. Sadly, in reality this is not how events panned out however. Fiona came along with me - at the time she was a blood-donating virgin. We both waited patiently in the waiting area (Fiona more patiently than me, since I had left my car at the mercy of the parking ticket vultures) until we were eventually called. After the first consultation I was banned from blood-giving - my haemoglobin was too low, or, 'the blood wouldn't sink'. Fiona on the otherhand was clear to proceed. Having dragged her along, I felt obliged to accompany her through the rest of the process, and to be honest, I'm glad I did. People in the bed area were keeling over left, right and centre, and yet I was chatting to Fiona so much that she didn't even notice!

Yesterday I did my domestic goddess bit around the house. The highlight of the morning was my herb-planting endeavour. I'm very excited about my kitchen window-sill at the moment. Practically since the week we moved in, Fiona and I have had a basil plant, and aside from almost letting it die of thirst in its first few days, it's thriving. Heartened by this, and spying the '2 for £2' offer in Sainburys, mr basil has now been flanked by mr coriander and mrs parsley. Being a bit daring, I've even planted the seeds of some marjoram, chives and thyme. Perhaps this is a feat too far, but we'll see if, between the two of us in the flat, we can keep them alive. The feat thereafter is finding recipes with the said herbs in them and then being able to actually cook them!