It’s been a pretty busy month.
This post is going to be a lot different than March’s monthly favourites, simply because I haven’t had any time to do anything other than work.
April saw the launch of the greatly anticipated STV 2, and I couldn’t be more excited at how it turned out. I haven’t talked about this much, but at the start of last month I was asked to take on a fantastic new opportunity within the company. With our new channel, we got some brilliant new licenses, meaning we can reach even more people than before.
And now, your little Ayrshire gal is right at the front.
I get to find local stories and write them up for three daily bulletins and god knows how many nighttime ones. I’m absolutely loving it. I’m based in a university campus which is quite strange – the security guard didn’t really believe me when I said I was staff, not a fresher.
Also, since I’ve relocated closer to home, I don’t have as long a commute by any means. It takes me all of an hour instead of almost two. While this is all very well and good, it has had a serious impact on my blog – the only time of day I have to work on my blog is on the train to and from work, so now that time has been seriously cut, so apologies in advance if I’m not as active.
But aside from work and blogging, I’ve tried my best to get out more.
I spent a weekend on Arran looking after my gorgeous nephew, and then took my sister out to get her hair done for her birthday.
But the main highlight of this month wasn’t even in this month – it was May 1, but I’m writing about it anyway. So Burrell and I, after both hearing back from Glasgow Caledonian, had started looking for some budding journo freshers.
And legit not a week later, myself, Chloe and a new face were sitting in a fantastic restaurant in Glasgow. When I first saw Kirsten Irvine, I instantly thought Cheryl Blossom. Her hair is the most gorgeous shade of red, and falls in soft curls that I am oh-so-jealous of. She loves food, elephants and the colour green – and I’m still trying to get over the fact that she doesn’t like Harry Potter.
So following on from meeting these two fantastic journos, we all decided to meet up on Monday to put faces to Twitter icons. It didn’t take long for us to settle on possibly the COOLEST place ever.
On St Vincent Street, there is a stone building covered in neon signs. Pizza Punks. Once your mind gets over the artsy alliteration, you begin to hear the murmur of chatter and the ever so slight bass drone of The White Stripes from outside the door. When you enter, it is exactly what you’d expect.
Instantly, we were assaulted with smells of fresh dough, charred meat and fresh veg – I was in love.
I ended up going for a sourdough an
d san marzano tomato base, topped with stringy mozzarella, chorizo and crisp red onion. I can’t even begin to describe the taste. Unlike other pizza places I’ve been to (and trust me – there has been a few) the toppings didn’t slide of the dough, nor did the chefs overdose on salt. It was just perfect.
If the pizza wasn’t enough, the company just completed the entire afternoon.
There were laughs at the sign that boasted the restaurant as a”Better first date than Nando’s”. I’ve only ever been on one date to Nando’s – the chicken was salty, and the guy even saltier. So when our newfound trio took a seat and instantly began talking about our ambitions, relationships and passions, I couldn’t help but think about how true the sign was.
I found out that I’m the grandma of the group – Chloe and Kirsten have just left school much to their relief. They both love cacti, and are possibly as obsessed with stationery as I am. This was completely confirmed when we gulped down our ice cream just to run to Paperchase.
I don’t know what’s more off putting ? The color of the cake or the feet ? https://t.co/i7fJXZVlMB
— Gordon Ramsay (@GordonRamsay) 2 May 2017
“Come here, all of you. Just look at this. Touch it. Fucking stone cold.”
I. LOVE. Gordon Ramsay.
A little part of me has always thought the chef was unnecessarily mean – surely to god you don’t need to scream that much. But this month, I’ve become absolutely obsessed with Hell’s Kitchen. And I’m not using the word lightly. I genuinely hear myself saying ‘put on those fucking scallops, Jeremy’ at night when I’m trying to get to sleep.
I’ve only finished season one, but I’m SO excited to start the rest. It’s making me seriously question my chosen career – I can’t help but feel I’d do better than half the people there. (I probably wouldn’t, but let me dream).
On a more serious note, I went to an absolutely fantastic rally in April.
On April 6, the UK Government introduced the family cap – you can no longer claim tax credits for a third child. People have now been limited to receiving support for just two children. And yet, as if this was not disgusting enough, there is an exemption. There is a way to apply for tax credits to help support your third child – if you provide evidence that this child was conceived out of a non-consensual attack. The only way you can get this support is if you prove you were raped.
And in response to this, there was a rally in Glasgow to protest this barbaric cap and clause, which I wrote about here.
The sun has finally come out in my little part of the world, so I’m switching my music up. I’m saying goodbye to all my wintery-sad tunes, and making way for some bright and happy melodies. But with this quest has brought the most amazing nostalgia trip ever.
I’ve gotten right back into my indie ways; my commute playlist currently consists of Weezer, The Zutons, The Kooks and Foster The People. It’s so good.
If I had to pick one song this month it would probably beeeee The Zutons with Valerie. Up until the other month, I just assumed that the song was originally sung by Amy Whinehouse. But apparently not. Just imagine listening to this track while walking down a dirt path, overshadowed with thick trees. The sun is just peeking through the leaves, too.
I feel like I should introduce this heading just because I have so many weird thoughts that either don’t fall into or don’t merit a category. So this month, my What Else has got to be Mr Colin Creevey.
On May 2, it’s the 19th anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts in Harry Potter. Now obviously, J.K Rowling set her epilogue “19 years later”, so this year is pretty significant.
With every year comes another apology from Mrs Rowling, and this year I was so disappointed. She’s already apologised for Fred (MY BABYYYYY) and Remus (RIGHTLY SO BTW), so you’d expect this year’s to be Tonks, Mad-Eye, maybe even Dobby? Wrong. She chose the one person I don’t have any sympathy for – Severus Snape.
While I was going through the other apology-worthy deaths, my mind stuck on one in particular. Colin Creevey. In fact, it actually took me a few minutes to remember him. And that’s the problem. I’ve got a full Twitter thread of my thoughts – check it out. (I think I fucked up half way down, but you’re all socially smart – you got this).
LET’S REMEMBER THE YOUNGEST VICTIM OF THE BATTLE OF HOGWARTS – COLIN CREEVEY. pic.twitter.com/I15KlYTeaM
— Elle Duffy (@STVEleanor) 2 May 2017
So those are my April favourites – what are yours? Who do you think J.K Rowling should have apologised for instead of Snape? Or do you agree?